Hot Chocolate
by Vixen in Violet
Summary: It's midnight and Chuck overhears something between Elizabeth Weir and John Sheppard that he thinks he shouldn't.


_A/N: I am a huge Sparky fan and the idea for this occurred to me at around midnight last night. (Yay for not thinking straight!). Anyway, here is my sad attempt at humor in my first-ever Stargate fic. Enjoy! ;D_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis_

**Hot Chocolate**

* * *

The lights in the winding corridors of Atlantis were dimmed and Chuck was having a hard time finding his way back to his quarters from one of the few restrooms on the entire base. Sighing, the man wearily took in his surroundings. Deciding it was best to let his feet make the decisions for him, he continued and unconsciously took two left turns and a right. Or was it two rights and a left? He mentally cursed the Ancients for their lack of spontaneity when it came to interior design. Soon enough he arrived at yet another blessed fork in the road. Poor Chuck was about to give up when he heard a noise.

_"Is this how you like it?"_

Chuck did an inward leap for joy. That was unmistakably Colonel Sheppard's voice! Now that he knew whose room was nearby, he could easily navigate the rest of the maze to his own quarters.

_"Mm... that's perfect."_

Chuck stopped mid-step. Did he just hear someone else in the room? He dared a glance at the door behind him. Nothing. Must have been his imagination. The fact that he was living in a somewhat remote city in the middle of a distant galaxy often gave him the idea that he was not alone.

_"Good. I was afraid I wouldn't do it right. It's good for you to do this once in a while, Elizabeth."_

WAIT. REWIND and STOP. Chuck felt his stomach lurch. Did the _military commander_ of Atlantis just acknowledge the _leader_ of the expedition in _his own room_? He couldn't think straight. He knew he shouldn't be listening. Not knowing what else to do, even the obvious option to walk away, he shut his eyes as tightly as he could. Needless to say, the closing of one's eyelids does little to muffle the sounds permeating one's uncovered ears. This was scandal! Sure, everyone knew they were close. Close FRIENDS. Not only were they in the same room, but they were talking to each other. TALKING! Oh, of course they were, he thought. That would be silly if they were in the same room but not talking. By the way, why hadn't he noticed that Sheppard was saying something to someone when he'd first heard him? Wait! Why wasn't he hearing anything anymore?!

"..."

This was all too much for him.

_"Oh, John, it feels so good now."_

_"Oh really? And here I thought you'd never want to go to bed tonight."_

There was a chuckle. The listener at the door took note of the relaxed and... girly tone?

_"I suppose when a man wants to warm me up on a cold night like this, there's no reason to refuse."_

Why didn't Atlantis have its own tabloid by now?

_"You look pretty warmed up."_

"_Yes, in fact I feel like a heater's running in here. Should take this off..."_

There it was. The dreaded unzipping noise. He felt like he was being forced to listen to some stupid advertisement, which always led him to think that he'd reached the end, only to be sucked back in by the "But wait, there's more!"

"_You're right, Elizabeth. It's getting hot in here."_

This was outrageous! Appalling! Blasphemous! Sacrilege! Chuck put a hand to his temple. Too many synonyms at this time of night.

"_I appreciate it though."_

"_Yes, well, I aim to please."_

After a couple minutes had passed, he had finally made the decision to leave and forget... until he heard some shuffling noises, that is. Some content sighing seemed to be floating through the air as well. Then came the obvious sound of a mattress being squished. He gulped.

_"John, right there is fine."_

_"If you say so."_

As he stood outside the door of Colonel Sheppard's quarters, (or were they Dr. Weir's?) he contemplated the reasons for his undeniable urge to eavesdrop on his superiors. Was life in the control room really so monotonous that he needed to find something _wrong_ with it to grasp some form of entertainment? Perhaps he was being influenced by those gossiping nurses who enjoyed spreading all those rumors. He groaned. Maybe this wasn't the time to be philosophical. Or maybe-

_"JOHN! Oh my God..."_

A groan.

_"Hold on, Elizabeth..."_

_"Just... hurry up!"_

_"..."_

No! He couldn't stand here any more. Not for this! His mind reeled and suddenly everything around him seemed to melt into one ugly color. How could his leaders, the people he looked up to, condone this type of behavior at the peak of their careers? How was he ever going to look at them together in the control room without thinking, '_Oh my God, they were doing it!?'_ This wasn't happening, it wasn't-

"Chuck?"

Like a trained dog, Chuck snapped up his head at the sound of his name, surprised to come face to face with a very confused looking colonel.

"Y-Yes sir?"

Sheppard looked at the man for a moment. He looked rather scared, which amused him.

"Have a good night." Sheppard smirked before walking away.

The last thing Chuck saw before the door closed behind the colonel was a very large brown stain on Dr. Weir's red shirt and Sheppard mumbling to himself, "Damn hot chocolate."

* * *

_A/N: And that's why you should never offer to hold someone's hot chocolate, children. Go on, tell me what you think. Should I continue to write for SGA? Anyway, thanks for reading. :)_


End file.
